Irsa/Introduction

Name's Irsa Rawlins. I don't got a lot of time to stand here dealin' with your sorry ass, so I'll keep this short and sweet. Might surprise you to know I'm a Theurge, despite all this size. I got the moon I got, and I ain't complaining about it. I'm tough, I got Rat on my side, and claws and fangs of my own.

I was born and raised in Los Angeles up in the Sept of Shattered Stone, in the tent cities and homeless encampments my people call home. Ain't willing to give you all my personals: it's enough for you to know that my momma raised me, her sister was the Garou of her generation, and my aunt's daughter Mariah and I were brought up together. Mariah's son, Josef, is six now, but he's not gonna be the one who pops into the war-form one day. It'll be Mariah's daughter when she's ready to have one. In my family only the women Kinfolk are the ones having Garou kids. Don't know why, don't care honestly. That's the way Gaia set it up, and that's good enough for me.

All the scars you see me wearing come from battle. My first pack was Rat's Rage, and they're still kicking around. I moved to Prospect 'cause Los Angeles is a hell-hole, the single worst place to be Garou in the U.S. Leeches run in packs up there, the local Glasswalkers are Weaver-ridden pieces of shit, and ain't no one coming to help out a bunch of urrah without a caern. The Bonegnawers and Uktena are the ones keeping the city safe, and we're spread thin enough as is. The family thought it'd be smart if some of us spread out, so we don't all get snapped up in the Wyrm's coils. If that ain't a survival strategy I don't know what is. So here we are: me, Mariah and Josef. That's all we need, and all we're gonna need.

If you see me around, I'll be busting my ass dealing with the local spirits, scouting out Weaver and Wyrm-taint, or prepping art installations on the streets. Sometimes all three. Ain't got a use for cops, the government, and even less for most apes running around on Gaia's skin. Too many are cowards, got no spine to speak of, and are too willing to turn a blind eye to all the suffering around them. Well, I ain't. I'm coming for ya, Wyrmspawn. And I'm bringing all my Rage with me.